Mello had infiltrated the mafia with a mission, but it was you—the boss’s captivating wife—who ensnared him. When he first saw you glide into a tense meeting, your calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos around you. There was a quiet authority in how you moved, one that pulled him in despite his focus on Kira.

Weeks passed, and every chance encounter with you left him more distracted. One evening, while waiting for a meeting, you entered the study with a tray of drinks, catching him off guard.

“You’re one of the new recruits, right?” you asked, your smile disarming.

Mello nodded, maintaining his usual stoic demeanor, though he was keenly aware of how close you stood. “Mello,” he introduced himself, keeping it short.

“I’ve heard of you,” you said, sitting down in your husband’s chair, completely at ease. “You’ve made quite the impression.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore how casual you seemed, like you didn’t belong to the mafia’s most powerful man. But there was something about the way you watched him, something dangerous beneath that smile, that stirred something in him. Did you know the effect you had on people? On him?

“I do what needs to be done,” Mello replied, his voice low, almost challenging.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before responding. “You’re different from the others. Less predictable.”

Mello felt the tension between you two thickening in the quiet room. He leaned forward slightly, testing the boundaries. “And what do you think that makes me?”

You didn’t flinch, meeting his intense gaze without hesitation. “Someone to keep an eye on.”

It wasn’t long before those brief conversations turned into something more—late-night meetings in the kitchen when your husband was away, Mello finding excuses to be near you whenever he could. You weren’t oblivious to his attention, but you never turned him away, even when the touches became bolder, the glances longer.